The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-01-29
THE TEMPLEVILLE Mystery
BY HELEN CAMPBELL.

Let it be explained at once that this
title is no synonym for "The Bloody
Alley" or the peasant Woman's Re-
venge," or any of the mysteries figuring
in family story papers, and forming the
staple reading of the largest proper
ton of our reading population. But
it was none the less a mystery, and
discussed with an energy that would have
resolved it into distinct and unmistaka-
BILE elements, but for one fact, the obsti-
nate and determined silence of the par
ties concerned. Theories might be form
ed and theories were formed, not only by
the knot about the stove in the village
store, but in every house in the village
itself, which, up to this time, had felt not
only that it had full and perfect posses
sion of every fact, concerning every in
habitant, but that concealment was, and
must, in the nature of things, forever be
impossible. 1t was not till speculation
had exhausted itself that one of the most
bewildered of the spectators, determin-
ed upon direct questioning of the parties
most closely concerned, was met by calm
refusal to give the slightest satisfaction.
1t was then that Deacon Armstrong, a
pillar in the church, and an authority,
not only there, but on market rates and
secular matters in general, set his lips
firmly, and announced, to the group
about the stove, that "Templeville had
always known what Templeville folks
meant, and it wasn't going to begin new
ways, nor stand being kept in the dark"
And it was then that Uncle Hiram, who
for forty years had smoked his pipe be-
hind the molasses barrel, station chos-
en- because it enabled him to see every
face in the nightly gathering, broke the
silence 80 pronounced'that "as still as
Hiram Perkins," had become proverbial,
and, with wise smile, answered the an
CRY Deacon.
"For once, Deacon, calkilate Temple
vile won't git its way"
There had been suspicious that Uncle
Hiram could tell if he would, and
these suspicious blossomed instantly into
certainty. But no method, however sub
tie, surprised him into any further admis-
sion, and it became certain that Temple
vile must go without the desired knowl-
edge. The fact, itself, was very simple
one. The old Judge, hardly month be-
fore his death, had made new will, a
~ "a I'm hat
afternoon before the perplexed eyes of
Lawyer Robbins, who had driven over
from the Corners to witness it, and who,
discreet and silent as he had always been,
eyed the old Judge with distrust so
evident, that he smiled little even while
he sighed.
"You think there's screw loose, Rob
bins,,and so there is, but it isn't in my
head. I'm doing the best 1 can, and
time will show that did, or, if it doesn't
why"
Here the Judge stopped, and the old
lawyer who had bent forward with invol-
untary eagerness, Strengthened himself
slowly, as he waited for words that did
not come.
"There's time enough to alter it," Rob-
bins said at last, as he watched the
Judges face, lost in thought. "More'n
likely you will alter it after more think
ing"
"Not T." said the Judge resolutely,
rousing himself suddenly, and turning
his keen, gray eyes on the speaker.
"Read it over, Robbins, to make sure that
there isn't a point where you can catch
me up, or pick hole in it, and then Wen
witness it and put it all out of sight"
"Preston is in love now and won't mind.
but the time is coming when ne won't
stand it so easily" hazarded Robbins,
but the Judge made no reply, and pres
emily walked down the village street, his
hands behind his back, and his keen eyes
looking right and left, taking note of
every man, woman and child he met, as
they had done for sixty years. A month
more, and the familiar presence had
ceased from among them, leaving behind
him a question so puzzling that, in the
interest Of its discussion, the sense Of loss,
for the time, hardly made itself felt.
Preston Temple, the only son, came home